


Salut! Je m’appelle Marie; What can I do for you?

by mordorisleft



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, CEO George Washington, Cambaby Lafayette, First Meetings, Fluff, NB Lafayette, Other, Over Protective Ambiguous-Relationship Hercules, Scarred Alex Hamilton, more sin, shitposting, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mordorisleft/pseuds/mordorisleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College student Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette makes money in their spare time as a cambaby, which is a great time, until George Washington, tech impaired CEO manages to happen upon a private show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salut! Je m’appelle Marie; What can I do for you?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iwillgladlyjointhefight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwillgladlyjointhefight/gifts).



> this was honestly a journey to write.

It was late, and George Washington was still awake. It had been a long, hard, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), day, and normally that would imply a good night’s rest, but the problem presenting was that the description of his day fit another thing. Plus, he was still sat in his goddamn office trying to get his work finished.

He absolutely, positively, wasn’t blushing as he scrolled through his search. He was a grown man, he was allowed to be horny. He was alone in the building by now, for sure, so no shame in needing a quick stress reliever in his office. Of course; he was allowed to navigate his way onto a cam chat site. It was fine. He wasn’t embarrassed, wasn’t nervous. It was fine. 

And that was true, his pants having been discarded as he found something decent to watch, someone decent, but when a noise in the hall made him jump, swear, and click randomly on the screen, that was ended abruptly. He’d managed to click on a private call with another room’s performers, staring wide eyed at the man-? (woman-??, Person-???) who picked up. 

There was a pause, a moment of just looking at them, the strangest flurry of thoughts running through his head. He had to take a moment to try to recognize their physical attributes, the head of their cock peeking over the hem of the sheer pair of panties they wore contrasting with the makeup a little more vividly than his surprised brain could immediately understand. They were looking into their cam, and it made him jolt when they giggled. 

“Oh shit.” He couldn’t help but swear, looking for some kind of exit, but their video was full screen. 

“Salut je m’appelle Mar- Are you okay, Sir?” They purred, a velvety French accent making his head spin even more so than it already was. His eyes went wide and his heartbeat sped in his chest. 

“Wait- you can hear me? Oh no- fuck- how-?” 

“Are you in an office? How naughty.” They laughed, and their perfectly white teeth toyed with their lower lip. He felt like he was going to fall out of his chair. He felt like he wanted to fall off the face of the planet. 

“You can see me?” 

“Oui, _very_ fortunately for me.” They looked terribly amused, a smirk quirking up as their eyes flickered down for the briefest of moments, and he wanted to beg them to stop because he was already about to die - he didn’t need the extra help. 

His breathing was too heavy, his pulse too fast. When he didn’t respond they raised an eyebrow and tilted their head. And god, wasn’t that just a neck begging to be bitten. 

“Sir, are you okay?” They asked, sounding less scripted than they had before. Sounding less appeasing and more terribly, honestly, concerned. 

“No- I’m- it’s okay. I’m fine- I just-” 

“Sir, are you a virgin? What is happening here?” They asked, not a single hint of mocking in their voice. He gasped, despite himself, indignant. 

“What?! No! I’m not a virgin. I just didn’t mean to-” He gestured vaguely at the screen. 

Apprehension took over their features for the first time since George had met them, and he immediately decided he didn’t like the way it chased the smile, no matter how devilish, from their face. “So… does that mean you would like me to hang up?” 

George had never reacted to something so fast is life. He shot up from where he was finally starting to relax in his seat and shouted at the screen, “No!” 

In an instant, that flirtatious smile was back, and George had to wonder if he had imagined it gone in the first place. 

“Then relax, Sir. Come on. Why don’t we start with names, no?” They asked, and they were purring again, but it didn’t sound like they were playing it up. They just seemed to be having a bit of fun, now. It made him lean closer to the screen. 

“I’m George.” 

“Well, George, my name is Marie,” they seemed to wince as they said the name, but George ignored the urge to inquire why. “I go by they and them pronouns, please and thank you, but I don’t mind gendered pet names much.” 

Person. Now that that was established. 

“Is . . . should I call you anything in particular?” 

“Whatever you want to. Do you have any titles you like, _Sir_?” They guessed, and he swallowed hard, feeling his cock twitching back to life where the panic had left it going a bit soft. 

“Tha- Yeah. Sir is good. How do I- What do we do, now?” 

They smiled, and shrugged. The movement caused one of the straps of their baby pink nighty to fall off their shoulder and George’s eyes immediately tracked the movement. He swallowed heavily again. “We don’t have to rush, but if you’d like, I could talk to you and tell you all the things I want to do with it while you-” 

He jolted and they giggled again, cutting themself off, and he felt his face heat up. 

“Why don’t we talk for a minute first, then?” They offered, and he relaxed in his seat a bit. His hands had been grasping the arm chairs, but slowly were finding their way back to the area calling for their attention. He didn’t miss their eyes following the movement. 

“Okay.” He agreed, sighing and nodding. He was thankful for their patience as he got himself together, sure that most would have hung up by now. 

“So, Mr. _Big_ Office, what terribly boring thing do you do that you’re on dirty sites rather than working?” They teased and he smiled. 

“I’m actually a CEO. What do you- Well, I mean, I obviously know what you do, but anything besides this?” 

They paused for a moment, seeming to deliberate something, before they responded. “I’m in college. This was just a fun and creative way to pick up some extra cash, really.” 

George’s brows furrowed at this new information. College. Shit, they looked young but … “And uh-” he coughed and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “How uh, how old are you?” 

At that, they laughed, this time a deep, genuine sound that could only come from being caught off guard. He wished he’d been able to record it, or trap it in some seashell or magic glass bottle where it belonged. “Do not fret Sir, no one is going to jail here tonight. I mean… unless you are into that?” 

He let his head fall back when he laughed in return, shaking his head. “When you run a company playing cops and robbers loses its appeal. If one thing is wrong in the books it’s far less kinky and much more reality.” 

“That sounds stressful. Is that why you’re here? Stress?” They asked and he looked up at the screen again, this time with a bit more determination to keep his eyes there now. It wasn’t  hard, seeing they’d shifted to lean back against their headboard, giving him a better view of their body and the lovely little number they were packaged in. 

“You’ve got no idea. I’ve needed some kind of relief for the last goddamn month and haven’t had a moment to spare.” He admitted, and they were lazily running a hand over their taut stomach, the motion drawing his gaze. 

“Dieu, I cannot imagine that kind of frustration. It seems we have very different jobs, Sir. I practically get paid for getting off, whenever I want.” Their hand was slipping lower, dragging his gaze with it. 

“Do you like to? On camera, I mean.” 

“When I can, and when I can’t, I love to watch. I love to see people undone. I love to do it for them, help them feel good.” 

“Wouldn’t you prefer it in person? Don’t you enjoy the feel of your lover’s hands on your body, stroking the pleasure out of you?” George had no idea where his confidence came from, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to scare it away now. He sat up in his chair. 

It was exhilarating, really; the way he could see his words take effect on them. Their eyes noticeably darkened, and they sucked in a deep breath, hand travelling lower to finally stroke over the outline of their straining cock. 

George felt his pulse spike, adrenaline slowly seeping into his bloodstream. Energized on their sultry gaze alone, George reached down and palmed himself, moaning deep from his chest at the friction it caused. His eyes didn’t leave the screen, and to see them squirm at the sound _he_ had made encouraged his strokes. 

“Would you like to touch me, George?” They breathed huskily. 

“I’d like to do more than touch you. Baby doll, I’d like to see how it felt to claim every gorgeous inch of skin. I’d like to turn you around and see how you look from behind, see what it felt like to be so far inside you that you forgot where you began and I ended. And then let you come make your money and have your fun and know a million eyes are on you and only my hands can touch.” 

“Oh oui, Sir. _S’il te plaît_.” 

George groaned out right when the foreign language slipped from their lips. 

“What do you want,” he prompted, desperate to hear their voice again. 

“I- ah,” they broke off with a whimper. They brought their other hand up, bunching their nightie as their palm trailed up their defined chest to tweak at a nipple. The light caught something shiny beneath, and- oh god, was that a piercing? 

They tugged at the metal again and George groaned with them this time. Both parties picked up their pace. 

“Huh, baby, what do you need?” 

“Ngh, please I want to be full of you. In my mouth, or fucking me, please. Mon dieu, please just touch me,” they admitted, the words spilling out of their mouth like a prayer. He was nothing near to holy, right now, but he’d do whatever it took to grant it. 

“Mmm, of course you do. You’d look right at home too wouldn’t you. Bet you’d look real good with your mouth stuffed with my cock. So good under my hands, fuck. Would you let me eat you out baby girl?” 

As more and more filth spilled out of George’s mouth, the breathy little moans coming from the French beauty on the screen rose in a crescendo of ecstasy. They tugged more insistently at their nipples, and rolled their hips more desperately into their palm. Their whole frame was shaking. 

All too soon, it seemed, George felt his hips jerk, pace shakily, as he spilled into his hand. When he heard his own name spill from those agonizingly plush lips, in that intoxicating tone he knew would haunt him for years to come, was when he felt his restraint snap. It didn’t take them long to realize he was coming, and how could it? With how openly he was on display for their hungry eyes? Their intense gaze immediately flickered down to watch, and they let out another one of those tantalizing whines, rubbing at themself a little bit quicker. 

He knew, really, they must see men come for them every night, repeatedly, and it couldn’t be that exciting anymore, so when he watched them slip over the edge just from seeing him he was acutely aware that should he have been a younger man he’d already be twitching again. 

His chest heaved, strained breaths working their way through his open mouth, eyes closing for a moment to try to calm down. He shivered when some part of him whispered to open them, that it wanted to see them again. How could blinking make him miss them? How was he already so addicted to the sight of them? 

He looked back at the screen, and was glad he did when he saw them rolling their fingers over their outstretched tongue, tasting themself. 

“Holy shit.” 

“And we’ve come full circle.” They said, and he stared a moment, trying to understand what they meant before abruptly barking out a laugh. 

“Don’t antagonize the elderly, Baby. Please.” 

“Please. You’re only old enough to be mon pere, not mon grand-père . . . Unless you’re into that of course, I am not one to judge.” 

“Oh my god, stop.” He said, but he was laughing again, and so were they and he wanted this to last forever. 

“Want to know a secret, Sir?” They asked, sitting up, smirking. 

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.” 

“This was the first time in far too long I’ve actually gotten off from playing. It’s always fun, but not like that. I can’t come listening to men who don’t know what they want drone on. It’s not their fault, of course, but it’s easier to just help them along and move on.” 

“So, I’m not terrible, panic attacks and all?” He asked and they smiled, rolling their eyes. 

“Well, if you were, your petit monstre certainly would make up for it,” they said, looking pointedly down at where he had forgotten to tuck himself back in. He didn’t know you could choke on air, earnestly choke on thin air, until that moment. 

“I’m . . . fuck. I’m glad you enjoyed. Does that mean you may do me the favor of letting me see you too, next time?” He asked and they looked almost startled, looking down. He almost laughed, seeing how surprised they seemed to still be wearing their panties, but then they paused, looking back at him with an excited grin. 

“Wait- Next time? You’ll come back?” 

“I’ll come anywhere you want.” 

“. . . Was that a dirty dad joke? Merde, Sir. You know how to get at all my kinky spots, don’t you?” 

He felt his eyes widen. “Is this your way of telling me you have a daddy kink?” 

They paused for a beat a little too long to make their next words believable. “Bien sûr que non. Je suis sûr que vous le découvrirez très vite vous-même, _Sir_.” 

He swallowed thickly, and imagined how lovely a sight them doing the same would be, in a different context. He owed them something of the sort, for all the teasing. For the twisting in his stomach. 

“You do know,” he croaked. “I don’t speak French, right?” 

Their smile flashed dangerously, “Oh oui; I was banking on it.” 

And George just knew that yes, he would most definitely be seeing them again; this could definitely be the start of something new.

**Author's Note:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _Bien sûr que non. Je suis sûr que vous le découvrirez très vite vous-même_  
>  **Of course not. I'm sure you'll find soon enough on your own.**


End file.
